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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28628832">lovesick carnival</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/trustmeallnight/pseuds/trustmeallnight'>trustmeallnight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Jonghyun and Dongho, sweet and simple [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NU'EST</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon with a twist, Fluff, Getting Back Together, In a way, M/M, Mild Smut, Tiny Angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:08:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,700</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28628832</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/trustmeallnight/pseuds/trustmeallnight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It repeats, over and over again, their love. </p><p>Their ferris wheel.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kang Dongho | Baekho/Kim Jonghyun | JR</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Jonghyun and Dongho, sweet and simple [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2029015</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>lovesick carnival</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>omg hey besties! it's me! teehee i have a plot again ik im sooo boring but it's jbaek so i dont care its jBAEK anw i hope u like it and it doesnt become confusing hmmm </p><p>(can skip this and figure it out but basically this is the au:</p><p>people do not remember their love lives because of evolution or magic or whatever look i didnt go into specifics i did it for jbaek so every year jonghyun and dongho do not remember they were in love and dating but everything else is remembered so they're like eternal bffs turned bfs and it's a cycle &lt;33 it aint as sad as i think it is tbh)</p><p>ENJOY! (also to my fairy who did the most in telling me my shit is actually valuable THX)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’ll remember me, right?”</p><p> </p><p>It’s freezing outside, with the winter air nipping wherever possible. Hands tucked into hoodies wiggle incessantly, toes tucked in thin canvas shoes and woolen socks can barely breathe. The streets are empty, as the weather demands it, yet snow crunches loud with every step.</p><p> </p><p>Under the bus stop, one bench is enough for two to sit and wait. The bar separating each seat, however, means one stands and bares the blowing wind against his numb face so the other can bury himself in jacket layers. Jonghyun blows warm breath into the scarf bunched around his neck and mouth, folds his hands together within his pockets, and looks down at the newly dyed blond crown of the other trainee.</p><p> </p><p>“Suddenly?” Jonghyun huffs, amused, into the worn fabric. It’s his mother’s, from her own early adulthood, gray and simple as her tastes were, and while it doesn’t warm the numbness on his cheeks, he still wears it willingly. “It’s too early for this.”</p><p> </p><p>Dongho looks up, and Jonghyun smiles with his tired eyes. The blond boy’s hooded eyes are dragged down with large, dark circles, which then furrows his eyebrows and reminds Jonghyun of the image that <em> Baekho </em> needs. Angry, ferocious, a powerful presence that commands eyes to listen to his overflowing talent.</p><p> </p><p>It’s Kang Dongho, instead, who narrows his eyes and reveals his warm mouth from his own thick scarf to point a hard tongue at his friend. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s a yes or no, Jonghyun-ah.” Dongho spots the crinkling of eyes underneath Jonghyun’s undone fringe, looks away, then burrows his head back into the bend of the boy’s elbow. Embarrassed, a little bit shy, (starstruck, deep inside his shivering chest), he mumbles, “Never mind, then.”</p><p> </p><p>The bus is off in the distance now, the squeaking of its brakes already starting on the smooth slide of the ice covered road. The covered heads of those going to work, those standing to tiredly hang off the handles, the driver who eyes his route on the screen, Dongho watches as they loom over them two in the distance. </p><p> </p><p>Soon, after the too long bus ride that lulls them to a false sleep, the two trainees will join their other peers in the too cramped building. The small rice balls in Jonghyun’s pockets, warm now but will cool later, are meant to be a snack in between the difficult, exhausting practices. </p><p> </p><p>(Once, the young boy had made sure to pack just a bit more spam, two more clumps of rice, a little bit more care. Minhyun was growing taller by the day, but Jonghyun saw the struggle in Dongho’s arms to push himself out of bed every morning, and that never soothed his hungering soul.</p><p> </p><p>Later, the CEO had fixed Kim Jonghyun, just a teenager entering the cold idol world, a pitiful stare and told him he was going to be revealed as NU’EST’s leader. No one stuffed in the small office expected the boy to break down into sobs that showed the puberty in his cracked voice, puffy eyes, and tiny hands that clutched his growing stomach, yet no one stopped him from stumbling out the door. They had <em>expectations.</em></p><p> </p><p>When Jonghyun walked out of the office 30 minutes later with tissues stuffed deep into his pockets, and all four of them rushed up with curious eyes, Jonghyun interrupted the sniffle in his pink nose and grinned wide. Out of his right pocket in his jacket, homemade spam balls with seaweed tempted their young tastebuds, and they ate so deliciously that day that they didn’t notice the hardness set in Jonghyun’s eyes and his own rice ball that was secretly slipped into Dongho’s bag.</p><p> </p><p>Jonghyun was a leader, then, at that very second they looked up to him. But he was human, and he loved, and he felt that much more for the one boy who always sat next to him on the bus with ease. He earned it, that right to watch Dongho safely fall on his net.)</p><p> </p><p>The bus pulls forward to a slow stop, the doors opening for the two huddled on the bench. Cold wind blasts from outside into the warm interior, and everyone in reach shivers quietly. </p><p> </p><p>Jonghyun pulls at Dongho’s limp arm, digs deep into his bag to find the two individual bus passes, and drags both of their tired bodies up each high step. Dongho clings onto his back, eyes slowly shifting around to find a seat so he can enjoy the handful of moments that allow him to doze off.</p><p> </p><p>Jonghyun watches Dongho stumble across the aisle, both fond and anxious at just how young and bumbling he is, and heads down the same row to pick his friend up. </p><p> </p><p>“Come on,” he mutters, careful not to bump the baby held in a mother’s weakening arms. “Here.” </p><p> </p><p>Two empty seats, way back in the bus, are open. It’s a little jostling when the bus begins to pull forward just as Jonghyun has plopped Dongho into the window seat. His legs stumble, despite the growing balance he’s begun to develop during practice, and with a thump of their thick winter jackets, lands with barely his two thin arms over Dongho’s awakening form.</p><p> </p><p>Jonghyun curses, a quiet, “Shit,” learned from the various conversations with the company <em>noonas,</em> and winces as momentum pulls him backwards to face Dongho’s awake, surprised eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Dongho’s pressed back into the seat, eyes nearly rolling from how hard he has to strain to meet the closeness of Jonghyun’s eyes. His hands are already up at his chest, palms ready to push the boy away unless they become melded to the seat with the bus’ hard braking.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry,” Jonghyun whispers. His arms strain to push against the window to lift himself off. There, he launches himself into the seat next to the still boy.</p><p> </p><p>His cheeks pinken, hidden beneath golden complexion, yet Dongho is not as lucky. </p><p> </p><p>Dongho’s ears, newly pierced and already as red as it could be, heat up further. The pink crawls over the helix, reaches the lobe, and spreads to his own cheeks. As pink as his lips, that part in surprise, his ears become as warm as the hands gloved in wool and shoved into deep pockets.</p><p> </p><p>“Dongho.” Jonghyun still doesn’t have an answer, and he shuffles in his seat. He’s heated in his own way; embarrassment, from his clumsiness, from the people meters away that could just turn around and witness his fall, and an excitement that comes from watching Dongho close up in seconds because of <em>him.</em> “Dongho?”</p><p> </p><p>When the bus lurches backwards again, the next stop already open up to the few that board in front, they’re thrown in directions. </p><p> </p><p>Jonghyun catapults forward, he sees the plastic seat right in front of his nose, closes his eyes as he realizes just how much it’ll hurt, and softly lands on a padded arm that holds him close to an equally padded chest.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Thump. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Jonghyun swallows, hidden right in the darkness that is Dongho’s padded jacket, and listens to the thumping of whoever’s heart beats as it does. It’s too late, he realizes, to show his face now. He’s lost his courage, arms weak and heavy against Dongho’s sides, and his body sags into the comfort.</p><p> </p><p>Dongho doesn’t move either, hasn't since he was awoken by the jump of Jonghyun’s boyishly handsome face in his vision. Now, he holds Jonghyun in his arms, not much like the coworkers they really were supposed to be, and he clamps his mouth shut to avoid the squeak that imitates his heart in the sky.</p><p> </p><p>There was simply no way either of them could ever forget the other, even if they tried.</p><p> </p><p>(Next year, when they finally debut as one, Jonghyun hears the screaming crowd, feels the weight of Minhyun’s and Aaron’s hands in his, and remembers the tightness with which Dongho held him with. He tries hard to remember the beating of his heart or the blush on his cheeks, but nothing comes.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, Jonghyun spends the rest of his successful year clinging onto the bright smile of his bright, cheery-eyed Baekho that’s debuted, beginning to feel the stutter in his chest that he’s never felt before.)</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“You won’t forget me, won’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>Dongho coughs as the shock of hot air against his ear hits. He squirms, limbs kicking up the sheets kicked from their bodies, and tenses.</p><p> </p><p>“How could I-” He whines, breath releasing just as Jonghyun’s touch whispers from stomach to thigh. </p><p> </p><p>It’d be hard to, for too many reasons it’d be impossible to count.</p><p> </p><p>Jonghyun’s always been there, since they were just young teenagers, and although Dongho’s spent a good decade without someone like him, it’d be impossible to forget such a person now.</p><p> </p><p>To forget Jonghyun’s shy smiles--</p><p> </p><p>Dongho moans, high and breathy, as Jonghyun’s hard, bare cock finally slides against his. It’s dry, near painful, and the spare lube is somewhere deep inside his drawer, but they’re on the top bunk to avoid being caught immediately, and it’s much too good to crawl down now.</p><p> </p><p>--would be a nightmare Dongho doesn’t want to experience.</p><p> </p><p>To not remember the slow slide of Jonghyun’s thin body against his own--</p><p> </p><p>Dongho clings onto Jonghyun, too hot arms wrapping around a fragile yet sturdy back. He rocks up towards Jonghyun, the slick of his precum oozing to kiss at the length meeting his, and revels in it. His lips part, tongue heavy and wet, and he begs for a kiss.</p><p> </p><p>Jonghyun gives it to him, as he gives in everything he’s ever done for Dongho, and it’s inexplicable, the rush that follows. </p><p> </p><p>They’re pressed so tightly, moving smoothly against each other like oiled machinery, that it doesn’t matter that it’s a quiet, lonely afternoon. It doesn’t matter that they’ve survived the unimaginable hardships they weren’t taught about as aspiring kids waiting to debut, that their already uncertain future was now even more jumbled by their missing <em>Polaris,</em> that it was only Jonghyun that he could now depend on, if they wanted to survive just that much longer.</p><p> </p><p>As Jonghyun kisses him deeply, giving Dongho life as his shrunken lungs and trembling heart desire, and Jonghyun grinds against him with his own desperation, he only thinks about the inevitable, and how much he hates it so.</p><p> </p><p>--is something he knows won’t kill him but crush him, slowly.</p><p> </p><p>Jonghyun remains by his side through the few moments that slip by with the creaking of their bunk bed. When Dongho’s mouth breaks away from their slow kiss, and he throws his head back to sing to the vibrato of his jumping chest, Jonghyun holds him as tight as possible.</p><p> </p><p>It’s like a tidal wave, Dongho would describe, his first time with his Jonghyun. It reaches up to the sky in an arc, his stomach coiling into a tight spring as Jonghyun reaches between them to barely fit a hand around the both of them. It comes down onto the weathered rocks, splashing and scratching against his sensitive skin as he shivers against the coursing pleasure, and he comes with a large cry. The rocks soothe, taking his lips into theirs and not kissing this time but picking up the mess that Dongho breaks down into, and cradle him.</p><p> </p><p>When Dongho’s bleary eyes open, a white haze of vision where only his own two hands and a black head of hair exist, Jonghyun finally releases in his own crescendo. </p><p> </p><p>It’s not the tsunami Dongho was, no. </p><p> </p><p>Jonghyun’s a waterfall that comes from a slow, calm stream. He groans in Dongho’s ear, once quiet moans now as loud as the speakers in their practice rooms, and ruts against Dongho’s softening dick.</p><p> </p><p>Dongho winces; it hurts, yet he drags Jonghyun into his sweaty hold and lets his rock melt into the tinkling of water that shows they’re simply one and the same. </p><p> </p><p>When they’re done, and both of their breathing settle into nice, little sighs, Jonghyun collapses onto Dongho, rolls over onto the cramped bed, and turns his head. His sweaty hair sticks to his forehead, cheeks overheated yet still as golden as ever, and he looks so damn satisfied it embarrasses Dongho.</p><p> </p><p>“I bet you won’t,” Jonghyun says, chest heaving and eyes crinkling up into a grin that betrays the effort in his eyes once made for Dongho.</p><p> </p><p>Dongho smiles, rolls his eyes, and drags a thin arm over his own bare chest. </p><p> </p><p>(He’s happy, but he knows that if words were spoken, Jonghyun would have witnessed the hiccup in his voice and the tears rolling down to the pillow.</p><p> </p><p>“I will,” he’d cry, ugly and messy, too unlike the near perfect mood that afternoon was, “I’ll forget you, Jonghyun-ah, and I hate it so much, because I don’t want to forget this, not <em>you.</em>”)</p><p> </p><p>Instead, Dongho commits the boyish smile that only he can see, the bare skin of his Jonghyun laid out on the small bed, and closes his eyes to hope that maybe, just <em>maybe,</em> it’ll be this time that it imprints forever.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> The Ferris Wheel Occurrence: As Explained for the Simple Man  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The Ferris Wheel Occurrence: Author’s Notes </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> As a ferris wheel spins over and over again, people continuously boarding and exiting, never the same people every single spin and cycle, our psyches have conditioned us to erase the one sole passion we managed to keep through the rigorous process that is evolution.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> We will never be able to remember the love that we had in just one year of our dozens of a lifetime. The ferris wheel spins, and in one year of our personal carnival ride, we lose the one that was most cherished to us.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Now, why? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> We love change. We love the unexpected things that light up our boring, nonsense lives. To progress (rather, regress) to this kind of boring, routine-filled world, it’s as unnatural as this phenomenon that’s come to be. Humans adapt, humans crave change, humans have developed the insanity that is the Ferris Wheel Occurrence. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> So, as I end this note, do not be afraid of what comes. It is only natural that we flit from one lover to the next, each different person providing us with what we were meant to have from the start. Do not be afraid to live passionately, to live freely, to find the different loves that can only satisfy the deepest of your minds.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This year, your sweetheart will be the center of your universe, and you should cherish them to the fullest. Next year, you’ll find another, and it’ll feel just as brand new as the last one.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> End author’s notes. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Jonghyun closes the book and blinks. Plays with the hard book cover with mindless fingers, swishes his shoes against the carpeted library floor.</p><p> </p><p>The librarian bids him a silent bye, the text already in her hands to shelve away. He waves back without thinking, exits the library without thinking, and walks home. </p><p> </p><p>The elevator of the building is down, so he takes the stairs all the way up to the fourth floor to the dorm. When it takes effort and exhaustion to reach the tiny apartment, Jonghyun finds himself already pushing in the door and entering the warm living room.</p><p> </p><p>There, he finds Mingi dozing off while a movie plays on the television. Minhyun sits near the younger’s feet, eyes slowly closing as well yet trying his hardest to absorb the twist ending. No one manages to catch the surprise, Jonghyun has already closed himself off in his room and collapsed on the bed.</p><p> </p><p><em> The Ferris Wheel Occurrence,</em> he repeats. <em>His Ferris Wheel.</em></p><p> </p><p>In his camera roll, there are only 50 pictures. Most of them are from his younger days, before he was even a trainee. The few that are left are of those who stuck with Pledis, his current friends and coworkers. </p><p> </p><p>There’s birthday celebrations, amusement park visits, even the occasional photo of a restaurant poster that they want to visit someday, when they’re not struggling with schedules back to back. Jonghyun flicks through them, taking in each smiling face, and smiles.</p><p> </p><p>He loves them so much. He cherishes them, his best friends: Kwak Aron, Choi Mingi, Hwang Minhyun, and Kang Dongho. </p><p> </p><p>They’ve done everything together, and although it becomes difficult, where even now he can sense that nothing can ever be the same again, it is with them that he feels happiest. </p><p> </p><p>The next picture comes from the snack stand that used to be set up just two shops from their dorm. It didn’t have the best food, yet it was cheap, the food was always hot, and the lady treated them well. It’s become a staple to all five boys whose allowances only allowed luxuries every month or so.</p><p> </p><p>Jonghyun’s unsure of who took it. That day, he was so hungry that posing for just two seconds upset his stomach, and the lady laughed right after at his ridiculous frown. </p><p> </p><p>Dongho, too. </p><p> </p><p>Dongho laughed as well, right after the picture was taken of them two. He was already laughing, with his arm slung over Jonghyun’s shoulders and body warming Jonghyun’s squatting, starving one. Then, he laughed even harder after Jonghyun hurriedly stood up to desperately accept the steaming fish cake sticks the lady offered on the house. Even when Jonghyun offered him half, Dongho still giggled preciously, eyes fixed on the ravenous glint in Jonghyun’s eyes. </p><p> </p><p>Jonghyun shuffles in bed, pulling covers over himself until he’s tucked into a small cave of blankets. </p><p> </p><p>There’s only 50 pictures in his camera roll, and from those 50, he finds that Dongho always laughs brightly. How it’s possible, Jonghyun doesn’t know, will probably never know from just his tiny storage of his best memories. </p><p> </p><p>Clicking off his phone, the day’s clothes still on and hair unwashed, Jonghyun finds himself falling asleep to the thought of his always happy, always smiling friend. </p><p> </p><p>How it feels better when Dongho smiles because of him. How, whenever he sees that smile that erupts because of Jonghyun, it makes his heart tinkle like a golden bell. Why, hidden deep in the corners of his phone, locked behind a password that seems too familiar, is a photo album that dedicates itself to the way Kang Dongho, his best friend, has always looked at him, soft, fond, excited… </p><p> </p><p>Love. </p><p> </p><p>Familiar, strange love.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Please enter the password for the following album “Proof (for You)”: </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 950721  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Show password X </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It’s after another schedule that Jonghyun slips into the quiet apartment with heavy steps. It’s dark, he doesn’t want to turn the lights on when his eyes are so heavy, so he pads down the empty hallway to open the door to his room.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s Dongho that sits on his bed, fiddling with his phone, and whips a quick head around to greet the tired man that slips into bed.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” Jonghyun mumbles as he kicks off his shoes. The heavy jacket is slipped onto the floor, jeans tossed into the hamper in the corner of the room with decent aim, and he tumbles down onto a soft bed and thin blankets.</p><p> </p><p>The bed dips heavily after Jonghyun settles. </p><p> </p><p>“Why wouldn’t I,” Dongho replies, his mouth dipping down to brush against frowning lips. “It’s New Year’s, isn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>Jonghyun exhales, perhaps a bit too hard. When Dongho peels back, Jonghyun opens a tired eye to see his boyfriend with his own dropped face. </p><p> </p><p>“Sorry,” he automatically says, unable to bear Dongho’s hesitant touch. He pats the spot next to him, arm spread against the pillow as a cushion for the embrace they both need.</p><p> </p><p>It’s easy to fall against each other, because Jonghyun remembers the years that they always have. As much as he’s sought the dependable arms of their hyung, or searched for Mingi’s endless chatter, he finds solace in Dongho’s need for Jonghyun’s comfort. He isn’t the youngest of his family here, nor is he the headstrong leader that takes all of the torrent that rushes for the five of them.</p><p> </p><p>He’s Dongho’s lover, the one who cushions his head with his arm, pulls him to his chest, and kisses the crown of a curly head. Dongho falls back on him, and it’s easy to catch him.</p><p> </p><p>Just a year, Jonghyun notes, so many days since they came together naturally, that it feels like it’s been a lifetime plus as something more than the two trainees that debuted as one. </p><p> </p><p>Dongho slips the blanket over himself as well, huddling up into the space between the bed and Jonghyun’s broad body, and burrows his face into the hold. Dongo isn’t unfamiliar to his bed, never has been with how many nights he’s crawled into it, yet the curl of Dongho’s laundry scent that clings to pillows and sheets satisfy Jonghyun each time. It’s a renewal, much like the warm spring that rolls around, yet it warms more than ever.</p><p> </p><p>Feeling the warm weight of Dongho’s head near his side, slowly inhaling the clean scent of detergent and familiar musk, Jonghyun feels the looming rush of feelings he only ever reserves for his only one.</p><p> </p><p>“Move in with me,” he wants to say. </p><p> </p><p>It’d be easy, simple, when Dongho feels like the home Jonghyun bought, even more so when it’s just the two of them intertwined with each other on cold nights. The schedules wouldn’t be so tough then, nor will the empty loneliness in his head accompany him in the months where it seems he becomes the only person left in his tiny world. </p><p> </p><p><em> A year more, maybe, </em>Jonghyun thinks. </p><p> </p><p>When the ceiling becomes less of a trance to Jonghyun’s eyes, Dongho’s eyes are already closed enough to where it’d be a shame to wake him. Jonghyun’s arm is already numb by now, yet he stares at softened features and softly smiles, not a single muscle moving.</p><p> </p><p>On the wall, the ticking clock counts close to midnight. </p><p> </p><p>It lulls Jonghyun into an unthinking, slow mess. As a honeybee drowns in its own sticky mess, his eyes fall closer and closer, the <em> tick tick </em>ing of his unusually loud clock pushing him down with a kick of its too cruel foot.</p><p> </p><p>Dongho’s by his side, all curled up and dozing, and Jonghyun’s regretful to the end when his love slips away to the sands. He knows he’ll never get to see the life he really wants.</p><p> </p><p>It turns midnight, the fireworks light up the void sky outside, and the world sadly proves Jonghyun right for the 25th time.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>When the sun rises, and the birds begin to chirp, Dongho slowly blinks open tired eyes. The blinds are slightly open, allowing an early sun to shine right against his eyes immediately. He winces with a quick cover of his face before rolling over.</p><p> </p><p>Kim Jonghyun’s familiar face is squished against the low pillow. The blanket only comes to his chest, so with each deep, slow breath, his arms shiver from the chill of winter.</p><p> </p><p>Dongho shouldn’t be surprised with the face just inches from his red, cold nose. Absolutely shouldn’t, yet Jonghyun twitches in his sleep, and he blinks to keep the laugh in his throat.</p><p> </p><p>His left hand reaches out to close Jonghyun’s open mouth, now wishing to silence the almost endearing snort that furrows Jonghyun’s eyebrows. It should be peaceful for Jonghyun, who Dongho realizes has already led them (him especially, with a tight hand and an even tighter, tired smile) into the new year. </p><p> </p><p>The clock ticks in the early morning, but it doesn’t feel as special as it does slow, warm, and lazy. </p><p> </p><p>As his hand moves, though, he begins to feel something, a tiny thing straining against the confines of his ribs. It scratches against his chest, reaching scorching fingers out that want to brush away the layers of hair tickling at Jonghyun’s eyelids instead.</p><p> </p><p>It’s not something a 25 year old guy with an 8 year old bond should feel. Dongho realizes that, chants it as a mental mantra when he watches himself give into the pull of his heart. His fingers lift the strand of hair, feeling the coarseness of it from extensive dye, and flicks it away from a shiny forehead.</p><p> </p><p>When Jonghyun’s nose twitches, and his hands come up to rub at the itch on his forehead, it’s with a twisting, new found pleasure that Dongho gets to see the layers of his friend being built.</p><p> </p><p>Jonghyun groans with a crook of his fingers just as the fingers on his forehead lift away stray hairs. Then, his legs kick at the sheets, peeling them away to reveal the clothes he slept in as exhaustion finally pushed him onto the sheets. Jonghyun’s eyes are the last to open, puffy, dark things that blink in confusion at the face hovering above.</p><p> </p><p>“Dongho?” Jonghyun croaks, tired and slow but never backing away from how close they are. Dongho wants to scoot even closer, see how close he can get before the twist in stomach can ease up and he can breathe a bit calmer. “You’re up?”</p><p> </p><p>Dongho sits up as Jonghyun rolls over to stretch with a groan. Watches as his wide back curls in and stretches out in a series, attempts to count each wrinkle in Jonghyun’s loose shirt. Realizes he wants to do this for as long as Jonghyun lets him and decides to let the swimming butterflies in his gut fly up to his throat.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> HOST: So you wrote in your book—an amazing piece of work might I say— that it’s impossible to remember the love we once had. Does that justify my New Year plans then? *Laugh*. But in all honesty, would you care to explain that a bit further for us?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> AUTHOR: Of course.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> …  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> HOST: What an incredible job you guys have done, thank you. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> *Applause from the audience*. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> HOST: Though, I have to ask what I think all of us watching are wondering.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> AUTHOR: I’m happy to answer. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> HOST: Crazy things happen every year, every day even, right?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> AUTHOR: That’s how the world turns, yes. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> HOST: *Laugh*. For the wondering, the feeling, and the light hearted, do you think there’s a possibility that somewhere out there, an exception exists? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> AUTHOR: *Pause*. Yes. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> HOST: If it’s okay, could you unveil this new possibility?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> AUTHOR: Of course. While we think that, currently, it is definitely impossible for you to remember the romantic love that’s developed, it is not so impossible to remain with the same partner.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> HOST: But that goes against the whole point, doesn’t it? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> AUTHOR: We were always made to defy something. Again, more than 95% of people will find the next person that lights that fire we crave, but we believe there are those who, perhaps instinctually, continue to fall in love over and over again with the one they subconsciously choose.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> HOST: That’s quite a romantic, almost perfect discovery if you ask me. What are your personal thoughts? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> AUTHOR: Objectively, we haven’t found sources for this claim yet. We still find that all of our subjects experience the same functions of the occurrence every cycle. Stripped out of my degree though, and I’d like to think those handful of percentages have found a paradise. It’s exciting to find the passion that keeps us on our toes from time to time, but to have that and the innate comfort that comes with that one person… </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> HOST: Spectacular. Wow. It really… that sounds like an amazing thing. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> AUTHOR: Yes, and I hope we get to develop it more one day.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> HOST: And would that change any of the personal words you would like to say to whoever’s watching? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> AUTHOR: I’m a little stubborn and a scientist, so perhaps not. *Laugh*. Maybe… to embrace the unfamiliarity of the newfound emotions for the friend you once knew. They get your heart beating fast, and it feels as if this is the renewal of your life, but take a good, long look at them. Take in their touch, or the sight of them just talking. I think you’ll find that it perhaps isn’t the first time you’ve fallen in love with your perfect half. In a way, your ferris wheel’s stopped. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> HOST: My kids wouldn’t like the sound of that. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> *Audience laughs*. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> HOST: Again, thank you for joining me for such a special interview. Ladies and gentlemen, please clap for our guest-- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“So?” </p><p> </p><p>“So what,” Jonghyun murmurs. His head lolls against the sofa’s cushioned back. When his eyes have nearly shut, a shoulder lightly bumps against his.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you believe it?” Dongho asks, quiet despite his shining eyes. </p><p> </p><p>Jonghyun’s mouth quirks. Even when his vision is dark, he can still see the part in Dongho’s lips from curiosity. </p><p> </p><p>“That I’ve loved you before?” And now, Jonghyun sees the hope glimmering as a seashell. He throws an arm over the cushion, feels the nearly instantaneous drop of Dongho’s head on him, and melts right into the sofa. “I do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Me too.” Dongho’s up and clambering, always moving and buzzing when he sees the sincerity in Jonghyun’s eyes. </p><p> </p><p>They’re always quick to poke and point at each other, whether it’s cameras or the privacy of their messages. It’s with no one else that Dongho could ever be this confused, even when he’d like it to be as clear as the gleam in the windows every morning they wake up to each other’s dark eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re sure, right?” Dongho asks this as he looms over Jonghyun, a shadow against the fluorescent light that tries its best to cover the shakiness that begins, as an attempt to clean the window, to really make it squeak because it’s for <em>Jonghyun.</em> “Really sure, because—“</p><p> </p><p>They’re just friends, that’s all that matters, and that’s all that ever mattered whenever secret glimpses were taken for the other. Young kids who developed a bond that was to be expected, in such a cut throat field that it was actually impossible to not be that close. They’ve been there for each other, for the rest of the members, for anyone who needed the warmth that was their bright smiles and rib clutching laughter.</p><p> </p><p>They were friends, the best of, so it only makes sense to savor the whimper of surprise and hauntingly familiar press of Dongho’s chest against Jonghyun’s when they kiss. </p><p> </p><p>The eagerness in Dongho’s tapping leg is silenced to join the low buzz that is the hum of the air conditioner. There’s energy there that diverts itself in seconds; from the nervous twirling of thumbs, to the rhythmic bump of his heel against the hardwood floor, it all stops for the feeling of Jonghyun opening his arms to let him dive. Besides the crawl of his fingers that come up to hold Jonghyun’s chin, both to feel the weight of how <em> real </em>this has become and to steady the shakiness keeping him awake and thrumming, Dongho stills and melts heavily.</p><p> </p><p>A tongue peeks out, soft and warm, so Jonghyun takes it with his own mouth. Not quite as sweet, unlike the melted sugar gluing his hands to every dip of body he can find, but it’s what he would willingly feast on for nights, if he could. He savors the harsh mint that sparkles against his tongue, licking and chasing into a wonderfully open boy that sounds beautifully for him.</p><p> </p><p>When it’s hard to breathe, and it becomes impossible to be as molded as they are, Dongho pulls back and takes as much cool air as he can. Jonghyun looks at him with heavy eyes, mouth quirked as if he becomes disappointed with how he couldn’t fill Dongho up as much as the air conditioner spitefully does.</p><p> </p><p>No matter, though. Jonghyun runs hands under a large hoodie, feeling over a thin cotton shirt, and feels the truth pumping right under his fingers.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve always been sure,” Jonghyun says. </p><p> </p><p>He thinks back to his phone, nearly laughs with how easy 25 year old Kim Jonghyun had made it for the present him, then curls the shirt under his fingers to wrinkles.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s hard to forget you,” he murmurs. </p><p> </p><p>He’s shy now, which is too new considering the ages shared between them, but it’s no surprise when everything feels like a revamped ride with them. <em> Dongho </em> — Jonghyun watches slow understanding spread like a towel thrown into water, and he nearly chokes up for real— <em> Dongho’s always been there. </em></p><p> </p><p>“We were never just friends, were we?” Dongho asks for his sake. Always knowing what the other needs. He shuffles in Jonghyun’s lap, lowering his head until it fits just where neck and shoulder meet. </p><p> </p><p>“Sure we were,” Jonghyun says as curls tickle at his nose. “But I also loved you.” </p><p> </p><p>“Probably.”</p><p> </p><p>Jonghyun shuffles under near dead weight until the thighs spread over his own settle down like fitted puzzles. His hand is still travelling over Dongho’s back, both smoothing out wrinkles from messily done laundry and soothing the overeagerness of his fastly beating heart.</p><p> </p><p>“No, I know.” Jonghyun slightly flinches from the hot breath that blows in surprise. Everything else, though, continues to be as still as the room, and his legs begin to lose feeling. “I think--”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “You’ll remember me, right?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And Dongho looks at him with fear. Not from their near reveal to the adoring world. Not even from the ticking time that signals the late bus and their later arrival to practice. It’s from Jonghyun’s far away gaze that doesn’t yet hear Dongho’s silent shout to really look at him. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“--I think you’ve known too.”</p><p> </p><p>The couch feels softer against Dongho’s cheek this time around. He nods, feels cotton and linen rub against his skin, and he feels too heavy and dazed, like he’s been stuck into the ocean under a bright sun to drift and melt.</p><p> </p><p>“How could I forget you, Kim Jonghyun.” Dongho sighs, closing his eyes as Jonghyun holds him closer despite the tingling numbness, and lets his hands curl around the easy grounding of Jonghyun’s sweater.</p><p> </p><p>Trainees, sure. Friends. Best friends. Family. Boys who’ve grown up with each other to the point of invaluableness. Lovers with a near dozen winters to their combined names.</p><p> </p><p>They’ll find each other, somehow, always, just as some force has always generously dictated it for just them.</p><p>
  <br/>
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</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i have gen nu'est twt @ jrscherry</p><p>fic and rant @ HOTBODYJR<br/>to see the inner workings of my nearly smooth brain</p></blockquote></div></div>
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